


Prompt Fills and More

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Body Paint, Bodyguard, Cullen Smut, Drunk Sex, Elvhen Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Painting, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Solas Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Some smut and other stuff from prompts and prompt generators.





	1. Solas (Writing on skin/Dirty Talk)

**Author's Note:**

> I uhh...don't usually do Solas smut.
> 
> Feel free to comment a prompt of your own :)

Solas felt something stirring inside that he had long thought he’d learned to completely ignore. It wasn’t that she was beautiful, though that was an injustice. It wasn’t even that she’d come to him, willingly shed her clothes for him. It wasn’t the unconventional idea of painting  _ her _ , or the way she smelled. It wasn’t even that among her unique perfume, she was  _ aroused _ , and he could tell as clearly as if she had just told him herself. Combined though? It was almost crippling to keep up the conversation, keep adding to the designs crawling down her body, little patterns that seemed like they fit. 

 

“It’s cold.” She observed with a giggle. 

 

“These mountains are cold. I can’t help it if the paint is too.” he said gently. 

 

She arched up slightly, barely noticeable to someone not as accustomed to noticing everything. Her thighs were especially sensitive, it seemed. He’d done his ample best to ignore the need building through him, and failed spectacularly. He pressed his fingertips to her knee, venturing only a little higher at first, testing her reaction to it. She was definitely interested in him, she’d said so enough, made it so obvious even a blind man could see it. This though, this was never really spoke of, he had no idea if this was something she wanted. He inched towards her thigh, noticing the slight way she shifted it just a bit apart from the other, a small sigh escaping her barely parted lips. The concern present on his mind most strongly was the realization that if this was going to happen, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back. He reached the edge of her panties before she raised her head to look at him. 

 

Biting her lip, she watched him curiously, but said nothing. Only after he was certain she wasn’t going to stop him, did he stop. She raised her hips, letting him remove the one piece of clothing in his way. He tossed them aside, watching her expression shift the moment he touched her. He’d have liked to take his time, build up her anticipation for a long while before giving in, but his body was in disagreement with that assessment. He experimented with pressure, gentle at first, then steadily firmer, trying to gauge her preference. She quivered and writhed, her skin prickling in goosebumps, enough of a sign to suggest she didn’t seem to mind what he did. Pressing two fingers in to test, she shivered almost violently, trying to muffle the soft whine that slips free. 

 

“Is this to your liking then?” he asked quietly. 

 

She gave a slight nod, but he shook his head, brushing his thumb against her lips. “No, I want to hear you…” 

 

Her eyes scanned the room like the answer must surely be in plain sight, her face flushing with a bright blush. Well, she was still young, perhaps it was just a bit of nerves, or maybe just that she spent every day issuing orders and running many different operations, and ignoring herself. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what to think of this yet. 

 

“Yes, I like it…” she mumbled nervously. 

 

It was a start, they had time to work on it yet. His free hand wandered slowly up her leg, smearing still wet paint along her skin, an all too telling trail leading from her hip to her breasts. He circled her nipple, almost immediately responsive to his touch. He carefully added a third finger, her back raising off the floor, gasping sharply. She raised reflexively against his fingers, steadily upping his speed and the force behind it, his wrist flexing and tensing, panting like she forgot how to breath, her head tilting back. The entirety of her throat exposed to him, he stared intently, he wanted to taste it, to leave behind the telling pages of a filthy story all over it, little red reminders. There were a million ideas in his head, some of which she likely never imagined or perhaps even thought possible, others more mundane and common. That was a thought, she was getting close as it is, he could give her a bit to recover and let her in on some of his thoughts. Her body quivered, and her moans echoed in the small room. Judging by the silence, most on the upper levels must be busy with other matters, or sleeping entirely. Fortunate timing, at least. She slowly lowered back to the floor, and he slid his fingers free of her, her attention fixed on him. She blushed up to her ears, watching the way he brought them to his lips, pressing them into his mouth one by one. She whimpered quietly at the sight, and he smirked in return. 

 

Knowing he had her full attention, he took his time undressing. His shirt rose slowly, inch by inch over his head and off, and she sucked in her breath. Her eyes followed his hands down to his bottoms, loosening the ties enough to pull them off. He was never one for smallclothes anyway, but it was clear she hadn’t expected him to  _ not _ be wearing something under at least. Somehow, it only made him more interested in having her. He’d had plenty of women throwing themselves at him, in another time, a different version of himself, and that had been fine then, but the idea of someone so important, so powerful laying there like an offering was much more tempting. There was something very exciting about knowing everything he did to her, the responses to those things, it would all be genuine. Some claimed his sin was pride, and they weren’t far off. 

 

He sat beside her, drawing her up slowly, fingers trailing the swirling patterns along her arms. Red was a good choice, it complemented her perfectly. He bit lightly at her ear, exhaling warmly against it, his voice husky, and sounded unexpectedly arousing. 

 

“Do you have anything important to see to?” Solas asked curiously. 

 

“No, I’m free for the night.” she mumbled. 

 

“Good. I plan to keep you busy for a while.” he whispered. 

 

His hold shifted to her waist, keeping her back to him, her thigh brushing against him slowly when his fingers hinted at contact again. He swallowed hard, barely holding back, it had just been so long, and she had stolen his focus completely. 

 

“Your back…” he said, more to himself. “I think I’d prefer you on your back. I’m not letting you go until my name is the only word you can recall.” 

 

He could tell she was thinking about it now, trying to imagine what that must be like, walking herself through possibilities, her breath catching. 

 

“I want you tangled around me…” he said. “Ar isala pala ma sule ma irlahna…” 

 

Her eyes opened wider, biting her lip as she deciphered his meaning, her head dropping, long locks like a bride’s veil, hiding her face from view. Solas swept it back, teeth scraping the nape of her neck slowly, traveling up the side of her neck, leaving red bruises along her skin. She gasped, her hips jolting back against him. There was no more waiting, not when it wasn’t possible to want her anymore than he did just then. Easing her onto her back, he quickly spread her legs, directing them around his waist, bringing her hands to his shoulders, he kissed her, teasing her a bit longer before easing into her, feverishly adding more marks across her throat. Her racing pulse spread the scent of flowers laced with vanilla between them, erasing all but thoughts of her from his conscious. Solas travelled up to her lips, biting and tugging before his tongue twined with hers, her back jolting up off the ground, nails scraping and digging at his shoulders, giving her a short time to adjust to him. He’d have liked to give her a little more time, but it was hard enough fighting pure instinct from taking over. There was something undeniably appealing about the idea of her trembling underneath him, beaded in sweat and gasping for breath while he drove her to the brink of some indescribable near-madness. 

 

His hands left her just enough to angle her hips just right, slow and probing at first. She whined softly against his mouth, and it was too much. His control lapsed for the briefest moment, and he snapped against her, her body swaying against the cold stone, clutching him tighter, trying to match the rough, fast pace he established, scratching frantically against his shoulders. It didn’t hurt, but it stung in a way that made him shiver. He could feel the wet trails of wet paint smearing between them, stopping only long enough to bring her up, he wanted more of her to explore, more to touch. Her knees rested on either side of him, staring down at him like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation. Thrusting upward into her, he rolled her hips, trying to both show and encourage her. She was ever a quick study, swaying against him, her head dropping to his shoulder with a sigh. He nipped at her breasts, sweeping his tongue over her nipple, indulging in her soft cries when his mouth engulfed it. 

 

Solas felt the way she slowed, pulsing around him. He’d gotten her off fairly quickly before, and like this, it was amusing to see her try to decide what she was supposed to do with this one, whether she should stop or keep going. His fingers trailed swirls of shifting ice and fire down her back, eliciting a sharp shudder and the most delightful whimpering cry when his hands settled on her ass, keeping her moving until she melted against him, her voice breaking on his name, nearly lost in a haze of barely controlled panting, her eyes shooting open when he didn’t stop this time, gripping his shoulders tightly, biting her lip. There was no denying she was struggling to deal with the shock of having yet another edging so close to the last, and he wasn’t far off either. Solas lifted her off carefully, gesturing for her to move. 

 

“Get on your knees…” he said. 

 

She turned her back to him at his indication, kneeling down curiously. His hand rested between her shoulders, guiding her down with a firm push. There was always something appealing about this for him, the image of her under him, completely at his mercy that said power in his mind. Moving over her, he bit a path down the back of her neck, stopping between her shoulders. Her breath hitched at the force of his entry, her arms nearly shaking out from under her when he returned to her neck, his breath hot and ragged, quivering uncontrollably. Her hips jerked at the feeling of his fingers against her, nowhere to move where there wasn’t more to feel. This one broke her completely, her front half melting completely, the rest might well have went with had he not been holding her up. She bit the curve of her wrist, trying to mute the sounds already lost to the upper floors. Her hips swayed lazily, an amusing little reaction to the curious warmth, and the way it felt when he left her. He looked her over, there was hardly an inch of skin that wasn’t smeared with red paint, a broad streak of red down the center of her back to match. 

 

“I don’t think I work as well as a canvas as I thought.” she laughed. 

 

“Funny, I was just thinking you were perfect.” he teased. 

 

She was definitely mistaken if she believed he would rather paint the wall instead of her. There were suddenly a great many things he’d prefer to do with her. He’d have to try and find the time to explore a few more...


	2. Cullen x Lavellan (Urgent Need + Bodyguard)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this falls below my normal caliber work. I'm not sure why but I'm drawing a blank today >_<

Ellana flicked her eyes up with a bored sigh. Cullen stared at her for a moment, glancing out through one of the small windows, all but one covered so no one could look in. This started a week ago, at Leliana’s insistence. A series of several assassins were found throughout the keep, and the spy was fairly certain there might be more, either there or in hiding. She insisted it wasn’t safe to keep her around for now, that someone should take her somewhere no one would expect. So here they were holed up in an isolated room in a castle in the blasted desert, with nothing to do. Normally, she’d kill to be alone with him without anything to call them away, but between the heat that had them down to smallclothes inside of an hour and Cullen’s hypervigilance, she imagined any desire he might have to do more than wait for word to come back was probably gone. They’d been together for months, and they’d hardly even had the time to sneak in a few minutes of kissing before inevitably being summoned back to work. He seemed to be handling everything with his general ease about most things. Despite everything presently spoiling the experience, she snuck several glances at him while he paced in front of the very narrow window. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, anyway.

 

He looked back to check on her, only to see she was nowhere to be seen. Glancing towards the back half of the room, her lace panties lost somewhere a pile of clothes. Cullen swallowed hard, watching the way she knelt over the pack of clothes delivered that morning by a scout who brought them scheduled drops of food, supplies and fresh clothes semi-regularly. He tilted his head, silently appreciating the subtle movement of her hips, all curiosity as to what she was doing gone in favor of trying to rid himself of his rather obvious arousal before she happened to notice. It definitely wasn’t that he wouldn’t like to, didn’t see that their was plenty of unexpected opportunity here, or that he was particularly afraid of offending her sensibilities. The only thing stopping him was that he really had no idea what, if anything she wanted. 

 

She moved again, and he wasn’t really sure he was seeing it right, it could just as well be the heat getting to him, but he was pretty sure it was no hallucination. There was a section of wall, wide enough to keep the bedrolls out of view, but from where he was standing, he could see her quite well. Even if he couldn’t see her at all, the sudden shift in her breathing and a faint moan echoed along the stone was more than enough to suggest what she was doing. Did she even realize he could see her? Ellana was known for being observant, surely she had already figured that much out. He spared a quick glance out the window, taking his chances. Cullen strode across the simple room, coming to a halt in front of her. No, he had definitely guessed correctly, impaled on her fingers, panting quietly, her teeth clenched against her pillow. She’s teased him about how loud he sounds when he walks, he has no doubt that she already knows he’s there. 

 

It doesn’t leave his thoughts that she might still be startled by him, Maker forbid he’d misinterpreted everything. He slowly added a finger to hers, her body lifting slightly, the pillow abandoned, her head tipping back into it. She raised her head enough to watch him for a few moments before it was like it was once again too heavy. Ellana doesn’t seem to mind his presence, if anything, she seems almost like she was expecting it, trying to bring him down closer. She pulled her fingers out, more than happy to let him take over, quivering at his touch, his mind goes off on its own, imagining all the things he wanted to do with her,  _ to  _ her, really. She reached for his wrist, gently coaxing him to stop, her right hand guiding him close enough to kiss, her hands eventually settled on his shoulders, and he finally got the hint. He tried not to pull too far from her, moving as much as he could to get out of his underwear quickly, staring down at her curiously, wordlessly asking if she was really certain. 

 

Her hands wandered his back and around to his chest like she was compelled to touch as much of him as he’d let her, Cullen raised her knees up, kept to her chest by his arms, finding her lips again, her lips parted, his tongue tangling with hers, her heavy moan muffled between them, pressing against her a little harder, a little at a time. He wanted this more than anything he could think of at the moment, and she wasn’t interested in waiting too long either, if the way she lifted to him as best she could. This wasn’t at all like he’d imagine their first time would go, though saying he hadn’t thought about it at all was a lie no one could pull off. He thought he’d like to take his time, to explore the kind of things that made her shiver, what made her gasp and sob, and what really made her lose her mind. This was perfect, it was hot and sweaty, and loud, and the wet sound echoed through the room. His lips left hers, stubble scraping along her neck while he kissed and nibbled down, back up to her ear. Curses and mumbled, incoherent words strung together, like nothing else was coming to mind, the only words she could recall. 

 

She quivered, barely biting back a sharp moan, her walls collapsing around him, and while he had some idea that this time might not be as impressive, he hadn’t expected it to feel like this, and the last sparks of her end drug him down with her, her breath hitching, exhaled with a shuddering, hoarse pant. He reached up to sweep her sweat-damp hair back, drawing his hips back with a groan, marking the back of her thigh when he move to her side, sighing heavily while he worked to catch his breath. 

 

“I don’t...don’t know what came over me.” he mumbled nervously. 

 

“I definitely approve.” Ellana cooed. “Now if only we could get away more often.”

 

“Even if that meant more attempts to assassinate you?” Cullen asked dubiously. 

 

“Not that I wouldn’t prefer we just steal away for a night. Whatever works, I suppose.” She said with a shrug.

 

If it ended with him over her like that more often, any excuse would do. He’d been hard enough to resist from the first time she saw him, but the day they first kiss was the first time she ever imagined this might happen. It turned out even being Inquisitor didn’t mean she could just demand time off, and since he was busy often, trying to come up with reasons to drag him away from his post were even more challenging. For a moment, she had to wonder if she should actually be grateful to people who came to kill her, or if Leliana was most to blame for suggesting Cullen tag along to protect her. 

 

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” He wondered. 

 

“Probably another day or two.” Ellana guessed. 

 

“We don’t have many options, but this is one I think I’m warming up to.” he laughed. 

 

“Is that your way of saying we should stop worrying about who may or may not try to attack and spend our time in bed?’ She asked impishly. 

 

“You could say that.” he said. 

 

“I like the way you think.” She agreed. “That’ll teach them not to send us off without a deck of cards.” 

 


	3. Cullen x Quiz x M!Hawke (Intoxicated/Threeway)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt generator gave me intoxicated or altered/three way. So I immediately thought Cullen and Hawke with Quiz. I probably have issues.

Cullen sits across from Hawke, though it’s clear he’s not sure why he isn’t working. This was all Varric’s idea. Probably. He suggested the three of them were always busy, Hawke less so now, but still plenty busy tracking down leads that might be connected. Take a day off, kick back, play a game, have some drinks, really unwind. The world definitely won’t fall apart if you do. So far at least, it seemed he was right. Everything was quieter down here, and despite Lenna’s protests that they were probably displayed and labelled for a reason, Hawke selected a bottle from the wall at random, hunting down some glasses before returning to the table. Cullen eyes the glass warily, not even sure how old it was, much less that it was safe to drink. Could eat right through the table for all he knew. Lenna sighed, taking a drink, she stares at the glass, brows lowered in thought. She shrugs, then takes another sip. Cullen reluctantly takes a cautious test. It isn’t terrible, the flavor is hard to describe, but it’s not as harsh as he recalls other drinks being. 

 

Lenna tips her head back in thought, staring up at the ceiling absently tending to her glass as she thinks about it. Without a word, she slips the first two clasps on her vest, exhaling uncomfortably. Hawke glances over for a moment. It is awfully warm in here, should it be this warm?  Cullen sheds his mantle, propping his head on his hand. Hawke kicks his legs up on the table, rocking back in his seat. 

 

“You’re going to fall.” Cullen mutters. 

 

“And I’m going to laugh.” Lenna adds. 

 

“You’re the healer, aren’t you supposed to be more concerned with kissing everything better?” Hawke jokes. 

 

“You couldn’t get so lucky.” Cullen says. 

 

Lenna leans closer to pour the next round, and Hawke shoots back up. Cullen buries a hand in her hair, loosely twisting a stray curl between his fingers. He smiles a little when she looks at him, relaxing a little bit in her seat. She fans herself slightly before slipping the next two clasps free. Hawke buries his face partially against his arms. From here, it’s not too hard to get a decent look, and it sends an unexpected rush sharply to his thighs. 

 

“Bit warm today, isn’t it?” She mumbles quietly. 

 

“A little.” Cullen agrees. 

 

Hawke doesn’t answer in words, he leans back enough to pry off his armor, dropping it to the floor. He’s in better shape than most mages, and by the third round, there’s no longer an attempt at conversation, just flickering glances, and an empty bottle replaced on the shelf. She leaned against the table, her right hand reaching to unlace her breeches, pushing them down and stepping out of them before sitting again. Hawke might have pointed out that she didn’t have much left to shed, if they weren’t all already down to smalls. Cullen brushes his fingers slowly against her thigh under the table, and she shivers. Hawke isn’t quite sure when it got there, but on the opposite side, he’s trailing slow circles upward. Lenna sinks lower in her seat, biting her lip. They reach the edge of her panties at the same time, staring at each other in tense silence for a short time, before they pull at the sides, tugging them down to her knees. She’s quick to pull her legs together, glancing between the two like she’s not exactly sure what’s going on. 

 

Cullen moves behind her, sweeping her hair out of the way, kissing and biting her neck, quick to remove her bra. His fingers pinch her nipples lightly, and Hawke vanishes under the table, biting her lip firmly when Hawke presses a finger in, his tongue flicking against her. Lenna and Cullen haven’t really gotten to this yet, at most a bit of  _ friendly _ touching, this is unlike anything she’s ever experienced, and the all over feeling is doing a number on her already fractured self-control. Hawke adds another finger, and Lenna arches off the chair with a soft whimper. Her hips jut forward, more an instinct than a conscious act, one hand anxiously clutching his hair, the other reaching back, trying to find Cullen in the haze. He reaches to hold her hand, but doesn’t stop his own wandering, save for a moment when he moves to her side, bending to seek her lips, stifling her moans when his tongue sweeps against hers. 

 

Hawke adds a third finger, feeling her hovering between trying to fight the almost foreign sensation and being completely unable to. She cries sharply, much of the sound swallowed away, her much of her small frame wracked with shivers. Hawke pulls his fingers free, though his mouth is slower to move away, Cullen doesn’t seem like he’ll be coming up for air anytime soon, so he brings his fingers to his mouth, sweeping them clean. Hawke leans against the table for support, his underwear discarded with the rest of the clothes, palming himself with a groan, he can’t recall the last time he felt quite this hard, and it’s difficult to think clearly. He’s fairly sure that at least he’s had plenty of experience with drinking, three rounds shouldn’t be enough to do this, but then it’s older,  _ stronger _ , and very, very Orlesian. Now that he thinks about it, there’s probably something else in it, but no one else seems to mind at the moment. 

 

Hawke pushes off the table, his hands wandering down Cullen’s chest. He flinches away from the contact for a moment, but when his thumbs hook the edges of his underwear and ease them down, he’s grateful for the slight relief it offers. He breaks the kiss finally, both him and Lenna gasping for air, he lifts her like she weighs nothing, slowly easing her back down against the table. He’s never cared for the idea of an audience, not that he’s ashamed of her, only that it’s easier to relax around her with no one else watching. Right now, he’s beyond thinking it over too much, he wants her, more than he ever has, and waiting is the last thing on his mind. He directs her legs around his waist, and she stares up at him, all but begging him for more of his touch, his contact. Hawke knows with certainty she’s definitely ready, at least, she’s so wet the faint light filtering in the room glistens on it, and he’s loosened her up as much as she’s likely to get, not much, but enough that he should have little trouble. 

 

Cullen lovingly kneads a path up and down her legs, staring down at her like there’s no one he could possibly adore more than her, but the moment is brief, he wants to cherish her, but the way she squirms in anticipation is enough to provoke him to action. His hand curls his length holding himself steady as he presses against her. It’s not far in that he finds her resistance, her hands clutching his arms feverishly, and for just an instant, she looks like she just realized she’s been betrayed, but he shakes her hands off, cradling her face gently, his thumbs tenderly brushing against her cheeks, murmuring soothing nonsense to her, or at least at that particular instant it doesn’t make much sense to Hawke, but she responds to it. He leans over her, kissing her gently, a flurry of warm, quick kisses, the wet thumping between them probably thankfully lost to the thick walls. Lenna writhes under him, her slim fingers buried in his hair, rocking up to try and counter him, but it’s awkward, she hasn’t quite pinpointed it yet. His hands finally leave her face, and he moves up enough to palm her breasts, her moans testing his self-control dangerously. 

 

Hawke chews his lip anxiously, part of him needs relief, needs to deal with the pressure hanging heavy between his legs, but a different part of him wants to wait it out, to cum with her screaming for him. It’s been a long time since he’s had more than a quick fling, long enough that he can’t quite remember it clearly anymore. He reaches for her hand, and she seems momentarily bothered by the absence of his golden waves, but the minute her curls it around his cock and shows her what to do, what he likes. He lets go after a moment and she takes over as best she can, her whole body moving with the force of him against her. She has soft hands, he’s rarely met a mage with hands like that, if not from attempting to use spells without a staff to focus them usually does  _ wonders _ for the skin, he thinks sarcastically. Hers are delicate, smooth and  _ just right _ . He bites the inside of his lip, wrestling a groan that manages to slip his defenses. They’re all wasted, they realize that, and while it might be more entertaining to see just how interesting things can get without needing it to overcome the things holding them back, no one really expects this to last long, she’s already on the verge of another orgasm, and Cullen’s barely holding it together. Hawke doesn’t figure he’ll outlast him in that regards. Templars were supposed to be funny that way, an uncanny amount of stamina, nothing to do with the lyrium, he’d been told. Not that mages didn’t have their own special little quirks that made them fun. Nothing fancy, not when she was already getting him dangerously close already. He finds her mouth again, her lips parting for his tongue, muting the heavy gasping breaths between them, his pacing slowing enough to suggest he’s thrown by the way she feels wrapped tighter around him, her chest heaving unsteadily when he finally backs away from her. Cullen takes a seat at her side, needing the chance to relax, to cool off and catch his breath, but even now, he can’t resist touching her. His hand brushes against her shoulder, before he captures her right hand, his fingers threaded between hers, brushing damp hair from her face. 

 

He loves her, it’s obvious that’s what he feels, but I get the feeling he hasn’t told her. She seems like she’d be only too easy to fall for, her smile alone makes Hawke feel warm in a way he hasn’t felt since before his family left Lothering. He shrugs off the thought, carefully stopping her hand. He spares a glance to Cullen, who glances up, wordlessly suggesting he could do as he liked, so long as she didn’t mind. Lenna licks her lips nervously, like she’s not sure what to think about it, but after a moment, she blushes, turning to the comfort of familiar amber eyes, her legs inching just a little wider in offering. Hawke firmly massages her thighs, trying to encourage her to relax, she’s nervous, but perhaps less so than she might normally be. She’s never done any of this before, that much is obvious, but this,  _ this _ is far different than she expected. 

 

Hawke steadies himself, pressing into her slowly. It’s been a while, but the way she arches under him says he hasn’t exactly forgotten where everything goes at least. Cullen murmurs quietly to her, stroking her hand and up her arm for a moment longer before he leans back in his seat, watching the way his hands settle on her hips, her skin turning red from the pressure. He angles her up just a bit, and she gasps, scraping her nails against the table, she doesn’t like hurting others, as much as she might need to express that feeling, she won’t use him to do it, the table, she thinks, can handle the abuse, it’s old and scuffed along the surface anyway. He guides her legs around his waist, and she pulls him closer, her lips founder uselessly like she’s trying to find the words, but simply can’t. She wants more, harder, faster, and he can do that, it’s a personal favorite of his too. Hawke manages to reach between the bare space, rough fingertips sweeping and stroking against her clit. He already knows he’s not going to last as long as he’d like, he’s waited too long for that, but he’s spent enough time and coin at the Blooming Rose to know he’s not going to until he gets her off again.

 

Hawke leans closer to her and she swears under her breath, a quivering moan on either side. He’s noticed she reacted to her nipples being played with, not everyone likes that, but if she does, he’ll take it. His tongue sweeps flatly over it, sucking firmly, her eyes squeezing shut. He switches sides after a bit, her hands abandoning the table to hold his shoulders. He let up, her nipple freed with a wet pop, going up the side of her neck, her legs tensing enticingly. The sounds she made were like a shock to his senses, addicting in a sense. He kissed up her throat, landing on her lips, barely any pause between increasingly rapid thrusts, her mouth vibrating with frantic, quivering moans. Her walls quivering around him, he knew she was spent from the way she laid back bonelessly, her legs weakening around him. There was something to the way she looked though, beaded in sweat, face and body flushed, hair spread like a veil under her head. That was the look of complete and utter satisfaction, the understanding that there was nothing but contentment for a little while. 

 

Hawke gripped her hips, keeping her to him just a little longer, stilling when he came, groaning against her lips. He drew his hips back, letting her down gently before taking a seat, sighing. Gesturing to the wall, he offered a weak laugh, grinning lazily.

 

“So, another bottle then?” He asked. 

 

Cullen shrugged. “We seem to have lost our table. She looks comfortable. I’d hate to move her.” 

 

Lenna tried to sit up, but just couldn’t yet. “I’ll move in a bit.” 

 

“We could skip the glasses entirely.” Hawke suggested, gesturing to Lenna. 

 

“We could skip the drinks entirely.” Cullen says. 

 

“The drinks are probably Ferelden anyway.” Hawke says jokingly. 

 

“The men are too.” Lenna adds, a little more energy seeping back into her tone. 

 

“She has a point.” Cullen shrugs. 

 

“She has many things.” Hawke laughs. 

 

Lenna finally manages to sit up, Cullen lightly rubbing her back, Hawke, facing the rows of bottles again, still debating with himself the order things should go. He finally grabs another bottle, shrugging at the curious looks he received. He could use a little longer, and he was certain she wasn’t prepared for how much longer he took the second time around.


End file.
